


Coffee Black and Egg White

by Scribomaniac



Series: Tumblr Prompts [11]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Basically, Drama, F/M, Romance, Soul Mates AU, but ends up being a dick, dont see color until you touch your soul mate, rowaelin, rowan just wants to be a good guy, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribomaniac/pseuds/Scribomaniac
Summary: Prompt: Rowaelin prompt: modern soulmate au where you see in black and white until the first time you touch your soulmate - Aelin brushes by several people in a bar and suddenly sees color, she looks back in shock and no one has reacted (angst with happy ending?)





	1. Aelin

Aelin had always been conscious about her appearance.  Ever since she was a small child and had learned about colors and how to coordinate and accent them she’d made sure her clothes were the best and never clashed--even if she couldn’t technically see for herself.  Since she hadn’t yet made physical contact with her soul mate she could only see in black and white and the varying shades of gray in between.  That didn’t stop her from making sure her clothes never clashed, though.  She color coordinated her closet---with dividers separating the colors---there were small words inside on the tags, specifying the color, just in case an article was misplaces, too.  Notes were scrawled inside fashion magazines---evidence of her studying them like a hawk.  Aelin made sure that no matter who was looking at her, she looked amazing.  Her cousin, Aedion, who also couldn’t yet see in color, thought she was ridiculous for putting so much effort into her clothes when only the lucky few could actually see the difference, but she didn’t care.  She saw how people did double takes of him---people who could _see_ \---and could only imagine what fashion faux pas he’d committed.

Humming, she stared at herself in the mirror.  She was trying on a skin tight, short red dress she’d just bought the other day.  It fit her like a glove and the neckline made her cleavage look amazing.  Tilting her head, she wondered if she should leave her neck bare or add a necklace and risk distracting from her boobs.  Deciding a necklace was definitely needed, she grabbed one from the gold-based half of her jewelry box, checked that the small stone hanging from it matched the dress, and put it on.  Brushing her hair out of her face, Aelin slipped into her heels---golden, to match her accessories---and grabbed her purse before heading out of her apartment.  She checked the time on her phone just as she stepped off her front stoop and was pleased to see she was right on time to meet up with her friends at the new rooftop bar a few blocks away.

It was a girl’s night out---a much needed one, according to Lysandra---and Nesryn had won some promotional raffle sponsored by the bar, giving her and her party two free drinks each.  It was a pretty good deal, one none of them were going to pass up. So when Aelin approached the bar, she wasn’t too surprised to find Manon, Asterin, and Elide already waiting by its entrance.  Aelin couldn’t say for certain what any of them looked like.  Elide had dark hair, Manon had light hair, and Asterin was somewhere in the middle.  She knew Manon was the most striking of the three though, considering how many heads she turned her way.  Aelin wished she’d meet her soul mate already, if only to see what, _exactly_ , was so striking.    

“Aelin!”  Elide greeted when she saw her, a wide smile stretching over her cheeks.  “How are you?”

“Good, thanks!  You?”  Her eyes flashed down to her leg, then back up before Manon or Asterin could notice.  Aelin had known Elide the longest, but the dark haired girl was closer to the Blackbeak cousins, and the two taller women were ferociously protective of her, especially when it came to her leg.  

“I’m great!  So’s the leg,” she stuck out her left leg and turned her foot this way and that.  “What do you think?  Barely noticeable, right?”  Aelin looked down at the extended limb.  It looked like an ordinary leg.  The calf was covered in skinny denim jeans and the foot covered in a laced up boot.  To any casual glancer, it looked like any normal, healthy leg.  If Aelin didn’t know any better, she’d suspect nothing.  It was only her history with Elide, and a keen eye, that gave her insight---right at the top of the boot, the fabric of the pant bulged just so.  Aelin remembered when Elide lost the bottom third of her leg.  They were twelve or so, and she’d lost it in a terrible car accident---along with her parents.  Her uncle had taken her in, and hadn’t allowed for any prosthetic.  He claimed they were too expensive, but everyone really knew he just wanted Elide dependent on him.  It didn’t work, though, thanks mainly to Manon and Asterin.  When she turned eighteen---just shy of a year ago---the Blackbeak cousins had all but adopted the girl and gotten her set up with a prosthetic specialist.  It had taken a while, but Elide was finally free of her crutches.  

“Yeah, I can’t tell a thing,” Aelin told Elide.  Manon and Asterin’s shoulders dropped as tension flooded out of them.  Barely holding back an eye roll, she asked, “How long have you guys been waiting here?”

“Not long,” Manon told her, smirking over Aelin’s shoulder as a man tripped after trying to take a second look at her.  “Nesryn and the others are just around the corner.”

“They’re coming together?”

“Yup,” Asterin nodded, her thumbs flying over the touch screen of her phone.  She was the one of the only two of their group who had found their soul mate.  Aelin didn’t know much about him, just that he’d died several years ago.  Elide had told her so, but his death had happened before the two women had met and Elide was too polite to ever ask such personal questions.  Aelin, who wasn’t nearly as polite, but did have a strong sense of self-preservation, curbed her questions.  The light gray haired woman’s gray and black flecked eyes flashed up and a knowing, almost baiting glint flashed behind them.  “Nehemia stopped by Dorian’s earlier and found Nesryn hanging out with him and Chaol.  Lysandra lives nearby,” Asterin shrugged, “so she picked them up.” Her eyes flashed back down to her phone as it buzzed.  “Oh good, they’ve parked.”  Putting her phone away, Asterin ran her fingers through her hair, giving it a sexy, tussled look.  “They want us to head up and find a table.”

Manon pushed off against the wall she was leaning on and led the way through the hotel lobby towards the elevators that would take them up to the bar.  They were lucky, and a group coming down was just stepping off one, allowing them to step on.  Asterin hit the button for the roof and stretched her arm above her head, making the already cropped hem of her shirt ride up even higher and show more of her flat stomach.  Quirking a brow at her cousin, Asterin cooed, “Wanna bet I can get ten numbers before we leave tonight?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Manon smirked.  “Ten?  That’s not even a challenge.”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Asterin replied, “Twenty, then.”

Lips stretching to show pearly white teeth, Manon struck out her hand.  “Twenty for twenty?”

“Deal.”  Asterin shook her cousin’s hand and preened.  

Aelin watched the exchange silently, making sure her face betrayed nothing.  Plenty of people fooled around before finding their soul mate.  It was expected, almost.  Especially since there were no assurances that you’d find your soul mate.  Some people never did, so saving yourself---pining after this imaginary person---wasn’t advised.  A person’s happiness wasn’t dependent on their soulmate.  Aelin knew that well, she’d had several happy years with Sam, back before he’d found his soul mate.  When he did, though, Aelin stepped aside and happily stood beside him at his wedding.  She did the same with Choal and Nesryn---though minus the wedding. Aelin had never heard of a person finding their soul mate and still fooling around.  Asterin was a special case, though, having lost her soul mate so young, so maybe that had something to do with it.  Aelin didn’t understand it, but then again, she figured she didn’t really have to. 

The elevator dinged and the doors slowly opened.  A crowd was waiting on the other side.  A rough, slightly tipsy crowd that started forcing their way onto the elevator before the four women even had a chance to step off.  So with elbows out and jaws set, Aelin and the others muscled their way through the hot, lightly sweaty throng of people.  Heels were not the best shoes for this sort of thing, however, and soon Aelin’s balance was lost thanks to a pushy drunk and she had to reach out to stop herself from slamming into the elevator doors that kept trying to close only to be pushed back open again.  Her hand skimmed past warm skin and a dizziness that had nothing to do with her shoes overcame Aelin.  Groaning, Aelin closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.  Swallowing dryly, she opened her eyes and blinked.  Then blinked again.  Twice.  Thrice.  

Color.  Color was all around her.  It was everywhere.  It was all encompassing and breath taking, but also glaring.  Rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes, Aelin sucked in a sharp breath.  She pulled her hands away and stared down at them, then down at the fabric of her dress.  Red.  This was red.  It was amazing.  She could stare at it all day.

The elevator dinged again as the doors finally closed and Aelin’s head snapped up and her eyes widened in horror.  “No, no, no, no, no,” she muttered over and over as she hit the elevator button again and again.  “No, no, no---this _can’t_ \---this can’t be _rutting_ happening!”

“Aelin?”  Elide called from behind her.  “What’s wrong?  Did you forget something?”

“And can it wait?” Asterin asked, winking and waving flirtatiously at a man across the roof top.

“No, it _cannot_ wait!”  Aelin all but yelled.  She continued pressing the button, wishing she could summon the elevator with magic.  “I met my soul mate!”  She barked over her shoulder.

“You what?”  Manon choked, her light eyes going wide and her jaw dropping.

Aelin didn’t repeat herself, though, because the elevator had _finally_ arrived.  Nehemia, Nesryn, and Lysandra were on it and Aelin didn’t hesitate---didn’t stop to give an explanation---just stepped on and pressed the button for the lobby. 

Her friends tried to ask what was going on, and she tried to answer them, but her responses were all curt and short and so most of the elevator ride was spent in tense silence.  Bolting as soon as the doors opened, Aelin ran out into the middle of the lobby and began looking around, trying to find her soul mate.  She looked for anyone---anyone at all---looking as frantic and as excited as she.  But after her third sweep of the lobby, Aelin noticed it.  No one looked like she did.  There were no wide eyes, or short breaths, no wild turned of the head or spins of the body.  No one else was looking for their soul mate.  No one was searching.  No one was looking for her.  

Shoulders deflating, Aelin choked on a sob as realization dawned on her.  There was only one elevator up to the roof top.  No one besides her friends had been on it just a few moments ago.  No one was down here waiting for her---looking for her.  Fire began to burn behind Aelin’s eyes and she pushed her hair out of her face, leaving her fingers entwined in her golden locks.  Sucking in a shuddering breath, Aelin felt something within her crumble and give way.  She’d been left behind, discarded, abandoned, and there was only one explanation.

Her soul mate didn’t want her.      

                 


	2. Rowan

Rowan Whitethorn’s life was perfect.  He had a job in a reputable law firm as a defense attorney.  His co-workers made the work place enjoyable and the lawyers for the prosecution gave him enough of a challenge during trials to always keep him focused and on his toes.  He’d just moved into a new apartment with a great view of the city skyline, and everything he needed was within a ten minute walk of it.  And, most importantly, he had Lyria.  Beautiful, kind, too good for him Lyria.  She was the best thing to ever happen to him---soul mates be damned. 

Lyria and Rowan had met in college.  They were in the same class and one day, during a lecture, they found themselves sitting beside each other.  Rowan hadn’t been able to look away at the time.  Hadn’t been able to focus on anything besides the woman next to him.  She was breath taking, with her long dark colored hair and eyes.  Her lips, so full and beautiful, had hinted at a smile before her eyes flashed to his.  He wanted to kiss her then, he’d been so sure she was his soul mate, but he’d settled on a hand shake instead.  When nothing had happened, and their vision remained black and white, Lyria had pouted, but Rowan didn’t care.  He didn’t care if the universe thought they weren’t soul mates.  He’d decided right then and there that he was in love. 

It was ridiculous, really.  Love at first sight---especially without the sight---but Rowan had been a romantic once upon a time.  Almost ten years later with Lyria, and Rowan didn’t regret a single moment.  In fact, he was so sure that the universe had somehow made a mistake, that he and Lyria truly were meant for each other, that he began to make plans for their future together.  The apartment was the first step.  They’d lived together the past three years, but this was the first apartment they’d chosen together---the first with both their names on the lease---the first they’d co-decorated.  The next step was nestled in a small, velvet box currently weighing down his right pant pocket.  

He had the entire night planned out.  First, they’d have a few drinks at the new rooftop bar in the city---the one Lyria had been talking about since she first saw the advertisements for it.  Then they’d take a cab to their favorite restaurant and have a lovely dinner and fantastic dessert.  And finally, they’d take a romantic walk through the city park and in the middle of it, in front of the decorative fountain that Lyria loved to paint on her days off, Rowan would kneel and ask the most important question of his life.  That was the plan, at least. 

Everything was going fine . . . until his friend Fenrys found out he was going to the roof top bar.  Then he, and the rest of Rowan’s friends, invited themselves along for the ride.  Which was fine . . . it threw off his schedule, but it was fine.  Lyria loved them all, anyway, so it didn’t ruin their fun---just their privacy.  Still, Rowan kept his cool, knowing none of them would be rude enough to follow the couple into the romantic restaurant they were heading to.  Everything was going fine.  Until they left the bar.

His friends were being rowdy, as usual, and rude, as usual, and muscled their way past a group of girls onto the elevator, dragging Rowan and Lyria with them.  It happened so fast.  One moment is life was black and white, happy, normal, the next, warm skin touched his and his world exploded.  Colors bleed into everything and anything and Rowan sucked in a sharp breath.  It was . . . it was unreal.  Indescribable.  Beyond beautiful.  This new world he was living in was . . .Lyria squeezed his hand, quickly bringing Rowan back to reality.  

“Rowan?” She asked, a small crease between her brown eye brows.  Brown, her hair was brown and her eyes---they were beautiful.  So many colors blended into them.  Brown, green, gray---he could get lost in them. “Are you okay?”

Gulping, Rowan couldn’t help himself.  He looked out towards the girl just a few yards away from him.  She was staring down at her dress in wonder, a brilliant smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes.  Her blonde hair covered most of her features, hiding their details from him, but even so, Rowan knew she was breathtaking.  His heart twisted painfully and his fingers twitched as something instinctual overcame him, begging him to go to her.  To approach this stranger, to hold her in his arms and relish their new sight together.  He stamped down on those thoughts, those impulses.  He wouldn’t give into them.  He refused.  

Turning away from his soul mate---Rowan vaguely heard the elevator doors close---he returned his gaze to Lyria.  Giving her a wobbly smile, the white haired man squeezed her hand reassuringly.  “I’m fine---just got a little lightheaded, I guess.”  He brought their clasped hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of her palm. Lyria pursed her lips and quirked a brow, but didn’t press him, and he loved her for it.  Rowan loved Lyria.  He’d loved her since he first laid eyes on her all those years ago.  He wasn’t going to let the universe tell him otherwise.  He didn’t know that other girl.  So what if she brought color into his life?  He’d gladly give his new sight back if he could keep Lyria in the exchange.  

And so, with renewed resolve, Rowan led Lyria into a cab and gave the driver the name of the restaurant.  They arrived with minimal traffic jams and Rowan helped Lyria out of the cab before paying for its service.  Patting the small buldge in his right pant pocket, Rowan took a deep breath before placing a hand on the small of Lyria’s back and leading them into the restaurant. 

It was only after the couple had been seated and the specials read to them did Rowan realize his mind had wandered.  He hadn’t heard a thing the waiter had said, and he barely remembered pulling Lyria’s seat out for her.  His mind was fuzzy and kept replaying the image of the girl from the bar---his _soul mate_ \---over and over again.  He’d only seen her for a short few seconds before the elevator doors had closed on them, but his heart kept thumping wildly against his rib cage as he thought of her.  Knee tapping incessantly under the table, Rowan tried to focus on the words on his menu.  

Clearing his throat, he tried to make his mind focus on the woman in front of him---the woman he _loved_ \---and not the woman he’d left behind. “The lamb sounds good tonight.  What about you?”

“Hmm,” Lyria bit down on the corner of her bottom lip as she considered the menu.  “Lamb does sound good, but if you’re getting it then I’ll just have some of yours.”  Her eyes crinkled in the corners and now she bit her lip to keep from smiling.  Huffing out a laugh, Rowan reached across the table for her hand and began to play with her fingers.  “I’m thinking,” she turned her hand over so her palm was face up and stroked the length of his index finger slowly. “Halibut.”

“What a wonderful choice, ma’am,” the waiter nodded as stepped up to their table.  “And what would you like to drink with it?”

“Sauvignon Blanc, please,” Lyria handed him her menu.

“Very well, and you, sir?”

“Rack of lamb,” Rowan ordered, also handing the waiter his menu.  “And a glass of Cabernet.”

“Of course.  Your drinks will arrive shortly, and would you like to order and appetizer while you wait?”

Lyria shrugged, she never was a large eater, so Rowan declined and the waiter headed off to the kitchen.  Lyria leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table brought her other hand up to clasp Rowan’s hand in hers.  “How was court today?” She asked, her eyes focused on his hand as she lightly traced the lines on his palm.

“Fine,” he answered, relishing the feel of her attention.  “Gavriel took lead today since he did most of the research for this case, so I just sat back and relaxed.”

Eyes flickering up to his, Lyria smiled and teased, “Relaxed, huh?”

Snorting, Rowan grinned, “Well, I tried, but my molars may disagree with all the grinding I did.”  Entwining their fingers, he joked, “What can I say?  Back seat lawyering has never been my strong suit.”

Lyria looked like she was about to reply, but then a server stopped in front of their table carrying a tray with two glasses of wine.  Pulling his hand back so as to not interfere with the server, Rowan’s gaze flickered away while the glasses were placed in front of them---a glimpse of golden blonde hair caught his eye.  He saw a flash of it out the window across the street, and his heart fluttered rebelliously in his chest.  but on closer inspection, he saw the hair belonged to a man, not a woman in a red dress.  A wave of disappointed his Rowan hard.  It was staggering, and he almost choked on it.  Forcing his eyes back to the woman in front of him, Rowan’s eyes locked onto the crystal glass of red liquid Lyria held in her hand.

“She ordered white wine,” Rowan blurted out, stopping the temporary server from leaving.

Lyria’s eyes widened and her arm froze in it’s ascent to her mouth.  “My apologies, sir!”  The server’s eyes were wide as well as he looked at the two glasses he’d set down on the table. Liquids were a tricky thing for the color blind, especially without any labels.  Servers without soul mates were notorious for mixing up orders and unless the customer had found their soul mate, the mix up wasn’t discovered until after the first sip.  So, for Rowan, who hadn’t even touched his own drink, much less his date’s, to have caught the mistake it could only mean one thing.  The waiter apologized some more, took their glasses away and returned to the kitchen.  Rowan barely noticed, however, all his attention was focused on the brunette before him and shimmering gloss of tears welling in her eyes.

“You,” she whispered, her lips trembling.  She sniffled, her nose turning a bright pink.  “When did you---?  Oh, Rowan.”

Reaching across the table almost desperately, Rowan gripped her hands in his and vowed, “This changes _nothing_ , Lyria.  I love you--- _only_ you.”

“Oh, Rowan,” she said again, smiling through her tears which had begun to fall.  “Of course it changed things.  It changes everything.  When did you meet her?”  A spark of realization lit up her eyes, “The elevator---was it then?”

Rowan nodded, but tightened his grasp.  He felt himself loosing her and he panicked.  “I don’t care,” he told her.  “I don’t care if she is my soul mate.  I choose you, Lyria.  I love _you_.” 

“Rowan,” her brows furrowed with concern.  “She’s your soul mate.”

“I don’t care,” he said stubbornly.

Choking on a laugh, Lyria sniffled again and shook her head.  “Oh, Rowan,” his jaw tensed.  That was the third time in less than two minutes she’d said his name in such a way.  It made him nervous.  Pulling one hand free from his grasp to cup his cheek, she told him, “I love you, Rowan.  I love you so much, but this?” She brushed her thumb over the bridge of his nose and across his brow, making his eyes shudder close.  “This is a gift---you can’t just throw it away.”

“I won’t throw you away,” he growled out.  “Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“You’re not throwing me away,” she pushed some of his hair behind his ear.  “You’re giving me hope, Rowan.  Hope that one day I’ll see color, too.  That one day I’ll meet the person that will brighten my world.  You’re not throwing me away,” she repeated.  “I’m stepping aside.  I love you, Rowan, and I want you to be happy.”  She squeezed the hand clasped within his larger one.  “You deserve to feel worthy, too.” 

“Now,” she said sternly, gripping his chin with her free hand. “You better hustle back to that bar and find your soul mate and explain yourself, Rowan, or else I swear to the gods I’ll tell Fenrys you sing pop songs in the shower.”  The glint in her eyes told him she meant it, too.

Rowan swallowed thickly.  He was torn, his heart practically beating itself against his chest in an attempt to get him moving, and his mind focusing on the shared history with the beautiful woman before him.  Short, rapid breaths escaped him as the internal struggle continued.  Brows furrowing, he confirmed, “You’re sure?  You’re okay with this?”

Smirking playfully, Lyria patted his hands and teased, “Of course I am, I get your rack of lamb all to myself now.”  She huffed out a laugh, but after a moment her smile softened and she nodded.  “I’m sure.  Now, _go_ \---you’ve left that poor girl waiting long enough.”

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, leaning across the table to kiss her on the forehead before practically sprinting out of the restaurant.  He ran like the wind down the busy city streets.  He had too much pent up energy, too much adrenaline, to wait for a cab.  He had to move.  He had to keep moving until he found her.  His soul mate.  He hoped to the gods she was still at the bar.  He didn’t know what he’d do if she left already.  He didn’t know her name, he barely knew what she looked like.  So he ran.  He ran harder and faster than he ever had before.  The wind dang in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the city around him.

Eventually he reached the hotel and after a quick scope of the lobby---no red dress there---he sprinted up the stairs to the roof top bar.  He was a sweaty mess when he burst through the door and into a crowd of patrons, but he didn’t care.  Frantically he looked around this way and that, trying to catch a glimpse of the blonde woman in a red dress.  She wasn’t at the bar.  She wasn’t on the dance floor.  She wasn’t by the D.J.  Rowan’s heart stuttered as he wondered if he was too late.  She’s left.  She must’ve left.  Gods, he was an idiot.  Cursing himself, he ran like a chicken with its head cut off back to the door leading to the stairs when a bright flash of red caught his eye.

Halting in his tracks, Rowan’s breaths came out in short huffs as he turned to see a blonde woman in a red dress leaning against the roof’s stone railing, looking out at the dark horizon.  Heart stilling, Rowan’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he slowly walked to her side.  “Excuse me,” he croaked, his voice thick from his sudden work out.

Waving him away, she didn’t even look at him as she said, “Not interested.”

Brows raised, Rowan cleared his throat, causing her eyes to glance his way.  He sucked in a sharp breath.  They were beautiful---so beautiful, and suddenly he was terribly grateful to her for enabling him to see the ethereal mixture of blue and gold intertwined in them.  Shaking his head, trying to straighten his thoughts, Rowan tried again.  “No, I mean, that’s not---” she quirked an eyebrow at him, and Rowan could see her patience was wearing thin.  Sighing, he blurted out, “I’m sorry---for leaving earlier.  I should have stayed.  I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

Understanding dawned behind her eyes and her jaw slackened for a moment before tensing and her brows furrowed.  Glaring at him, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him fully.  “You left.” She accused.

Nodding, “I did.”

“You found your soul mate and you _left_ ,” she spat, anger rolling off her like waves of fire.  Rowan nodded again, his chest was still heaving heavily and Aelin eyes him suspiciously.  “You better have a damn good reason.”  Her tone was harsh, but something flickered behind her eyes.  It was an opening, an opportunity to redeem himself.  Rowan saw that, understood that, and rose to the occasion.

Nodding head over to the bar, he offered, “How ‘bout I explain over a drink?”

Pursing her lips, his soul mate considered his offer.  Rowan waited with baited breath until finally, after what felt like an eternity, she nodded and extended her hand.  “I’m Aelin.”

Taking her hand in his, reveling the tingling feeling coursing through his skin where it contacted hers, he replied, “Rowan.”  

                 

     

      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought by leaving a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 coming soon! (Most likely tomorrow!)


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